Disclaimer: See previous chapters

Acknowledgments: I would like to thank my magnificent and ever so dedicated Beta Reader, Robyn. You're a lifesaver and you're the best. Thank you so very much! Hugs and Kisses.

As the Search and Rescue helicopter made its way in the direction of the newly activated beacon, its crew sighed in relief. According to their radar, the current location of the sailboat was nowhere within the search quadrant they were looking in. It was further north then they expected. The helicopter pilot, Captain Allison Ford, even asked for a second verification that the beacon truly belonged to the craft they were looking for and not some other poor soul lost at sea.

"Whoever this schmuck is, he's damn lucky. Without the beacon, god only knows how long he would have been out here," said the co-pilot, Lieutenant Kevin Ramsey.

"Ain't that the truth, but I don't know what kinda schmuck he is, though. You heard what Harvey said, apparently this guy is one of the President's senior advisors. I think we're all a little lucky tonight. Can you imagine having to go the President and tell him that we couldn't find one of his guys?" replied the Captain.

"What's his name again?"

"Seaborn, Sam Seaborn."

The weather over the sea had calmed down considerably in the last few hours and that was another cause of relief for the crew of the Jayhawk. The sole occupant of the sailboat still wasn't responding to hails, which meant that they were probably looking at an emergency extraction. The weather was now on their side for a hopefully smooth rescue.

"Okay guys, we're about 5 minutes out," announced Captain Ford, alerting the 2 men in the cargo area of the helicopter. Sergeant Benjamin Fisher and Corporal Christopher Doyle were preparing themselves for all eventualities. Fisher, being the paramedic of the group, was busy going through his medical backpack, making sure he had everything and closing it watertight. Next to him, Doyle was giving the lines and hooks one last look over.

"How long till the cutter gets here?" asked Fisher through the mike in his helmet.

"Their ETA's a little over an hour. It's just us on this one, guys," announced the Captain.

"Okay. I want to get the basket and backboard ready for descent now so we don't waste any time later," Ben Fisher told his fellow officer. Chris Doyle simply nodded his agreement as he stepped to the back of the cargo hold and retrieved the elongated metallic basket and placed it beside the door.

"Okay, Chris, get that spotlight on and shed some light on the matter," said the Captain.

"Got ya, Cap!" The young man reached for the door handle and with a swift tug, opened the long door. He turned on the spotlight and directed its intense light onto the bubbling ocean below.

"We should be just above it now," announced Ramsey, his eyes glued to the radar. For a few seconds, Doyle couldn't make anything out below him, the low clouds interfering with his vision.

"We're going to have to take her down some. The clouds are too dense up here. I can't see anything."

"Okay, taking her down 20 feet," said Ford as she executed the maneuver. As they traversed the wall of clouds, their view cleared up and below them, bobbing on the surface of the open sea, was the object of their search.

"I have a visual," announced Doyle, scanning the craft with the spotlight. Beside him, Fisher was leaning over the edge with a pair of binoculars.

"It seems to be intact. No signs of structural damage, but I detect no signs of life." As if on cue, Captain Ford engaged the speakers located in the front of the helicopter.

"Ahoy below! This is the Coast Guard Search and Rescue! Mr. Seaborn, if you can hear me, please come up on deck! I repeat! This is the Coast Guard Search and Rescue. If you can hear me, please show yourself."

"Nothing," announced Fisher after a few seconds, still looking through the binoculars.

"Okay, Benny. You ready for a little ride down below and see if there's anyone home?" asked the Captain.

"Ready and willing Cap," he replied, removing his helmet and replacing it with a wireless headset.

"Test! Test! Do you copy?" he said into the small microphone.

"We copy you load and clear," replied the co-pilot. Fisher quickly grabbed his backpack and threw it on his back, snapping it securely around waist and chest. He approached the Corporal, who was waiting for him, ready to attach the hook to his harness. Giving it a hard tug, the young Corporal looked up at his superior officer and gave him a thumbs up.

"As soon as you send the word, I'm down there with the basket," said Doyle, patting Fisher on the back.

"I'm looking forward to your company, Chris," he answered. Before commencing his descent, Sergeant Ben Fisher closed his eyes and muttered a short prayer. It was one that he always recited to himself in situations like these. He was never sure what kind of situation he was descending upon, but in each case, he always hoped to find someone on board, injured or not. He knew that if they were hurt, he could help them, but if he found an empty ship, there weren't many options as to where the occupants could be. It made his job that much easier, but it was so hard to live with the thought and images afterwards. He quickly made the sign of the cross on his chest and made his way out in the open. The mechanical pulley came to life and started lowering him to the sailboat on the ocean surface.

****

As his feet landed on the deck, Ben Fisher quickly detached himself.

"I'm down. Bring 'er up!" he said. Seconds later, the heavy line disappeared into the dark night. He quickly removed his backpack, allowing him more maneuverability. He then noticed a rope lying across the deck. One end was tied to the railing on the back of the sailboat and the other end made its way down into the cabin. Without wasting any time and with his heart full of hope, he followed the rope. With a loud sigh of relief, he found the other end attached to the waist of a man lying on his side in the middle of the floor. He looked up and mouthed a 'thank you'.

"Cap, I've located the occupant," he announced into his headset as he made his way over to his now patient. He reached into his backpack, grabbed a pair of surgical gloves and his stethoscope.

"What's his status?" came the voice of Captain Ford.

"Assessing now, Cap," he replied as he quickly put the gloves on and unzipped the injured man's soaked lifejacket. As he placed his stethoscope on his chest, he glanced at the young man's face. He grimaced when he saw the pronounced swelling of his right eye and the deep gash on his temple. The paleness and the expression of pain engraved in his features made his frown grow. He then returned his attention to the task at hand as he heard the sound of a heart beat in his ears. 'Yes', he internally exclaimed.

"Cap, we have a live one down here. Chris, get down here on the double with the basket." The 3 other officers detected the urgency in his voice.

"I'm on my way, Benny." The co-pilot exited his seat and made his way to assist the Corporal by taking control of the pulley.

"Benny, talk to me!" said Ford, realizing she was becoming a little anxious. She had to report back to base and was hoping that the news she had would be positive. The fact that the President of the United States, her Commander in Chief, was impatiently waiting and probably worried sick did nothing to appease the anxiety growing in the pit of her stomach.

Before continuing with his examination, Fisher meticulously placed a cervical collar around Sam's neck.

"Mr. Seaborn, can you hear me?" he yelled. "Sam, can you hear me?" The paramedic pursed his lips, a little worried that he was getting no response whatsoever from the injured man.

"Cap, before we move him, I want to make sure that he's stable," he said as he continued the examination.

"How bad is it?" his Captain asked.

"Well, it's not too good from what I can tell. Possible head and eye trauma. Right eye is severely swollen, could be some corneal damage, not sure. Breathing is labored." As he said that, he reached for his bag and pulled out a small oxygen tank and mask and placed it over Sam's mouth and nose. He then went to grab Sam's left wrist to take his pulse and immediately noticed its unnatural shape. Carefully placing the arm down again, he took out a pair of scissors from his bag and started cutting through Sam's yellow rain coat and sweater. Fisher now had a better view of the injury. Sam's forearm was a dark shade of blue and black and was bent in the middle.

"Okay, you can add an angular fracture of the left forearm to that list, Cap," he added hastily. "What happened to you?" he softly asked his unconscious patient. At that moment, Corporal Doyle made his appearance in the cabin.

"Not sounding too good, Benny," he stated, having listened to the conversation between the paramedic and the pilot on his way down.

"No, it's not," he replied, having just finished taking Sam's pulse. "His pulse is thready. I'm going to need your help here, Chris." The Corporal made his way beside his comrade and looked down at the injured man lying on the floor.

"What the hell happened to him?" Doyle exclaimed, alarmed by the state of the man.

"I wish I knew. Look, we have to do this quick. I think that he has a few broken ribs and the onset of pneumonia. I don't like the sound of those lungs." Fisher got up and moved over by Sam's head.

"Okay, we're going to turn him onto his back and watch out for the left arm. On 3." Doyle quickly got down on one knee and placed one hand on Sam's waist and the other on his back.

"1, 2 and 3." Slowly and gently, the 2 men rolled Sam from his left side to his back in one careful motion, keeping his body as straight as possible. Doyle, now noticing the rope around the injured man's waist, took out the knife from his belt and cut through the lifeline and discarded it to the side.

"Do you want to start a IV line?" Doyle asked, having assisted his friend in many situations like this. Fisher shook his head.

"No. It'll take too much time. I'll do it once we get him in the air. What we need to do now is secure that arm and bandage his head and eye." He reached for his bag and pulled out a large roll of gauze and sterile padding along with another pair of gloves. "Put these on," he ordered as they traded places. Once the Corporal had the gloves on, Fisher passed him the padding.

"Place that over his eye and the gash. Make it a few layers. Then wrap the gauze around his head to keep them in place, but not too tight and try not to move his head too much," the paramedic instructed as he again was searching through his pack.

"Yes, sir," responded Doyle. Fisher finally found the appropriate splint for the fractured arm. Even though he knew that his patient was too out of it to feel any pain right now, he nonetheless proceeded gently when he manipulated the broken and swollen appendage. He gritted his teeth as he felt the 2 pieces of the broken bone rub together. He immediately realized that Sam would require surgery to repair the break.

"Done," announced Chris. Fisher glanced at his friend's handiwork.

"Good job," he said approvingly. Doyle nodded his thanks and headed up on deck to retrieve the backboard.

"Cap, you read me?" the paramedic asked through his headset.

"I read ya, Benny," the Captain replied.

"We're getting the basket now. We're gonna have to deliver him ourselves, Cap. What's the closest hospital? One with a trauma center?" The Captain sighed heavily.

"I'm contacting base now for that info." Doyle then appeared with the wooden backboard.

"Okay, glide it here." Carefully, they placed the board beside Sam and gently slid it under him. Fisher also pulled out 2 secure blocks and placed them on both sides of Sam's head. They made sure that the straps were tight, placed the oxygen tank between his legs and both took one end and lifted. Doyle climbed the steps backwards and Fisher raised his end so that Sam remained horizontal at all times and slid the board onto the deck. Fisher gathered his equipment, placed it in his pack and swiftly threw it on his back. Both men placed Sam in the metallic basket and hooked it up to the lowered line, and he was hoisted up, shortly followed by the 2 Coast Guard officers.

****

Once the basket was secured to the floor of the cargo hold, Fisher removed the headset and put his helmet back on.

"Okay, Cap. What's the news? Fisher asked as he grabbed his scissors and started cutting away at Sam's lifejacket and clothes so he could continue his examination with more precision.

"Base says that the closest Trauma Center is Brookdale University in Brooklyn. They're trying to patch them through to us."

"ETA?" asked Fisher. Ramsey looked down at the radar, still amazed by how far north the sailboat traveled.

"About 40 minutes," he finally answered. With Doyle's assistance, Fisher continued to cut away enough of Sam's clothes so he could get an insert an IV. Once he managed to get the needle in and the drip going, he started making a mental list of his patient's vitals. With his stethoscope around his neck, he went to work.

After a few minutes of silence and patience on Fisher's behalf, the hospital was finally put through on the radio.

"This is Doctor Thomas, Brookdale Trauma Center, go ahead," came a staticky female voice.

"Doctor, this is paramedic Sergeant Ben Fisher. Our ETA is approximately," he quickly glanced at his watch, "30 minutes. We have a male, aged between 30 and 35. Multiple injuries, cause unknown. Pulse is thready. Respiration 10 and shallow. Breathing is labored on both sides. Possible onset of pneumonia.... " He continued on giving the attentive Doctor the information she would need to assess the situation. After he finished listing off the injuries, it was now Sergeant Fisher's turn to listen to the woman's instructions.

After ending the transmission with the hospital, Ben Fisher sat down beside his still unconscious patient and looked at his watch. It was almost 1 o'clock in the morning. He couldn't help but wonder what happened to this man. If only he had had time to examine the boat, but that was the least of his worries at the time. The crew of the cutter would deal with the details once it arrived on the scene and tow it back to port. Whatever happened, Fisher was sure that this man, Sam Seaborn, probably went through a personal hell. Judging from his injuries and the lapse of time between the first attempt to contact him and the beacon being engaged, Ben was sure that his trip to hell had been a long, painful and agonizing one. And it wasn't over yet.

"Did Base contact the President yet?" he suddenly asked his Captain.

"I gave Lieutenant Harvey the details. I'd have to say that he's talking to the President right now." She had decided, and Harvey agreed with her, to hold on advising the President until they knew a little more about the injured man's condition and where they would be bringing him. She didn't want to jump the gun, considering who they were dealing with. She was sure that the President and his staff would be elated and relieved to know that Sam Seaborn was alive and now on his way to the nearest hospital, but she was glad that she wouldn't be the one to tell them that he wasn't out of the woods yet. From what she heard, he was far from it.

****

Back at the White House

No one dared to break the silence that had settled in Leo's office. Everyone was simmering in their own little world, alone with their thoughts and fears. Every few minutes, they would all glance at the clock or their watches, each time expecting it to go by a little quicker then the last. Josh had finally detached himself from Donna's side and was now standing by the window, watching the last remnants of the passing rainstorm. Toby was now sharing the sofa with Donna. He was being as reclusive as he had been in his office, with his head down and his hand covering his eyes. He was being too quiet as far as everyone was concerned, not having said a word since he entered the Chief of Staff's office with CJ.

Donna kept a careful eye on Josh, waiting for him to snap again. His patience, as well as everyone else's, was growing dangerously thin.

CJ wasn't able to remain in one place, suddenly realizing that she had been pacing ever since the phone call. She caught a glimpse of Josh and slowly approached him. Without saying a word, she slid her arm around his and leaned against him. She needed the contact and she was sure that he did as well. She was relieved when he didn't push her away. He slowly placed his hand on hers without taking his eyes off the window.

Mallory was still sitting in the chair she had been occupying for almost 2 hours. Her gaze lazily focused on the floor, her mind a bustle of activity. Going against her father's orders, the traffic jam of "what if's" was now a major pile up and she couldn't see her way through it. It took all her self-control to stop herself from screaming out loud.

The President, sitting in the chair beside her, was going through a document that he had taken off Leo's desk. He was looking down at the pages, but couldn't make out the content. He could read the words, but they made no sense. He rarely let his emotions get the better of him, but in his situation, surrounded by these people, his friends, his family, he couldn't help himself. Their sorrow, fears and sadness were contagious, and mixed with his own emotional anguish, it made for an explosive combination.

Leo was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, staring at the phone, silently begging it to ring. He had never realized how slowly time went by when you actually paid attention to it and it was driving him crazy. The silence in his office was getting on his nerves. His body tensed at the thought of what this impending phone call represented. It was one of 2 things: life or death. Either there really was a reasonable explanation for all this and Sam was fine, aside from maybe a few bumps and bruises, and had a long story to tell, or ..........

"Okay! It's been 40 minutes now! Why haven't they called! What the hell are they doing out there?" exclaimed Josh, after looking at his watch and extracting himself from CJ embrace. Leo's thoughts were interrupted and he concentrated his gaze on his Deputy.

"Josh....." Again he was interrupted, but this time by the ringing of the phone on his desk. Everyone looked up, their faces filled with anticipation and dread. Leo looked at them before grabbing the receiver.

"Leo McGarry," he answered, his voice uncertain and edgy. He listened carefully for a few seconds. "Yes, Lieutenant. Before you go on, I'm going to put you on speaker phone." He pressed a button on his phone and laid down the receiver.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," Leo said.

"Thank you, sir." Lieutenant Harvey was well aware of how long these people had been waiting to hear news, any news, about their missing friend and co-worker, therefore, he decided to get straight to the point.

"They've found him. He's alive." A gigantic sigh of relief escaped from everyone. All their fears and anguishes suddenly seemed so unimportant and far away. Josh let out the breath that he had been holding since the phone rang and let his head fall back in relief, whispering 'thank you' over and over again. Donna jumped up and approached him, giving him a hug. She was so pleased to see a smile flourish on his face. Toby finally vacated his spot on the sofa and made his way next to CJ, taking her hand and gently squeezing it. The President leaned over and placed a comforting hand on Mallory's back. The young woman had pretty much the same reaction as Josh. Although in her case, silent tears of happiness flowed from her tired eyes. Leo just took in the scene playing out in front of him. 'We're going to be okay,' he thought to himself.

"Where is he now? Is he on his way back to DC?" asked Josh, his voice filled with excitement.

"Uhhhhmmmm...... No. Unfortunately, he was somehow injured. That's the reason why he wasn't answering his radio. Right now, the SAR team is on route to Brookdale University Trauma Center in Brooklyn," answered the Lieutenant, his voice filled with sympathy. The smiles on all their faces suddenly vanished.

"But, he's okay, isn't he? It's nothing too serious," said Josh as he approached Leo's desk, his last comment sounding more like a stated fact then a question.

"I don't know all the details, but I know that he was found unconscious. He apparently suffered a severe head trauma and several other injuries...."

"What do you mean, 'head trauma', 'other injuries'? What the hell happened out there? How was the beacon activated?" interrupted Leo, spitting out questions with his voice a little louder then he intended.

"They determined that Mr. Seaborn activated it himself somehow. The rescue team wasn't able to determine what happened though. Once they realized the seriousness of his condition, they stabilized him as quickly as possible and got him in the air. I wish I had better news, but the paramedic on board the chopper has pronounced his condition as serious." The room was flooded with a dreadful silence. Everyone's faces reflected disbelief. The President approached Leo and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"I don't understand. Why they are bringing him to Brooklyn. Why so far away? Why not the Trauma Center at GW? Or Georgetown?" asked the President.

"Well, sir, simply because Brookdale's Trauma Center is the closest to their location." The Lieutenant realized that an explication was in order. "You see, sir, his sailboat was located further north then we anticipated. He was actually located outside of the perimeter we were searching."

"Lieutenant, you mean to tell me that if his beacon hadn't been activated.....", the President was unable to make his mouth say the words and the thought alone was sending a chill down his spine.

"Yes, sir. He would still be out there. His boat would have continued on its northern course." The President, looking at his staff and the looks of shock on their faces, decided that it was time to now concentrate on the few positive aspects that just had been delivered to them. Sam was alive. He was on his way to a hospital where they would take care of him. 'He's alive', he repeated to himself. If that was all they had to go on for now, it would have to do, and hopefully those positive aspects would multiply. The President rested his gaze on Josh's devastated expression. Again, he put himself in Josh's shoes and imaged what would be going through his head and what he would want at this time. After a few seconds of pondering, he knew what he had to do.

"Lieutenant Harvey, have you been in contact with the hospital?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell them that members of my Senior Staff will be arriving within he next hour," the President announced, his voice filled with authority. All eyes in the room looked in his direction in surprise.

"I will do so, sir."

"And how long before Sam gets there?"

"Approximately 25 minutes, sir."

"Good. Lieutenant, thank you."

"Yes, sir. If there are any other developments, I will get in contact with you immediately sir," the man responded to his Commander in Chief. Leo leaned over his desk and disconnected the line. A long moment of silence weighed heavily throughout the room. Everyone was waiting for the President to explain to them how they were going to make it to Brooklyn in 90 minutes.

"Leo, get on the phone and contact the base. I want the helicopter here within the next 30 minutes."

"Yes, sir," answered Leo, as he grabbed the receiver and frantically dialed the number. The President was being stared at by 5 surprised and grateful gazes.

"I know this isn't the outcome we wished for, but we can't dwell on that. We have to concentrate on the fact that Sam's alive, he's safe and he's no longer alone," he said solemnly. "We were lucky tonight. Very lucky. He could have slipped through our fingers so easily and we would have lost him forever." The President couldn't stand the look of despair on their faces.

"I know how you all feel. I'm worried and scared too, but Sam managed to activate his beacon despite his condition. He didn't want to die out there. He's a fighter and so are all of you. Don't let your emotions cloud what's important here: he's alive. He didn't give up on himself, so don't you give up on him." The President turned to Leo when he hung up the phone.

"The helicopter will be here in about 15 minutes, sir," the Chief of Staff told him, his grateful smile making an appearance. The President nodded and turned his attention back to his staff.

"Go be with him. Make sure he's not alone anymore." The President nodded his head in the direction of the door. "Hurry up, your ride will be here soon. And I want a phone call as soon as you get there. I want to know what's going on and how he's doing." Toby and CJ made their way out the door, glancing at their generous boss with thankful smiles. Mallory didn't move from her chair, somewhat unsure if she was included in the invitation. The President had said that he was sending members of his senior staff and unfortunately for her, she wasn't one of them. Her Godfather looked down at her, sensing her uncertainty.

"Mallory," he said. She looked up at him. He simply nodded at her with a smile. She rose from her chair and tenderly hugged him.

"Thank you," she whispered as she let go of him and glanced at her father, who also nodded at her. She left the room quickly, almost as if she was scared the President would change his mind. Donna and Josh made their way to the door as well, but before he exited, Josh turned around and approached the President.

"Thank you, sir," he said, his voice a little stronger than it had been earlier. Jed Bartlet, looking at the young man standing in front of him, suddenly saw a reflection of himself from years ago. A strong, determined, caring and smart young man with a heart as big as Texas. A saying then came to his mind: 'Do on to others as you would have them do on to you.' He knew there and then that what he was doing was the right thing to do. For him. For his staff, and for Sam.

"Go see your best friend, Josh," the President replied. A faint smile appeared on the Deputy Chief of Staff's tired face. He nodded and left the room. The President sighed heavily. He wanted to go with them, but he knew how complicated that could be. He then turned to Leo.

"You should go," he suggested. Leo shook his head.

"I'll stay by the phone, just in case. Besides, someone has to stay here and run the country," Leo replied with a grin, some of the tension of the night events having escaped him. He stood there, looking at his best friend, he suddenly realized that the waiting game wasn't over yet. All of a sudden, most of the tension returned and installed itself within him for the long run.

To Be Continued..........